


Coping With Silence

by CoolPeopleWrite



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, Gay Sex, M/M, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Sex, Starvation, Threesome - F/M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29356665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoolPeopleWrite/pseuds/CoolPeopleWrite
Summary: In the days following the War, Hermione is left on her own to handle the emotions that come with being a War survivor. Living through torture, fear and fierce battles, Hermione has come out of the War a different person. To get through this time in her life, new companions present themselves at seemingly just the right time.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 5
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

Coping With Silence  
Chapter 1

xxx

  
Sometimes it seems that people hear best what we do not say  
-Eric Hoffer

xxx

Following the Battle of Hogwarts and the end of The Second Wizarding War, it had been decided that Hogwarts would remain closed. By doing so, those who had survived the battle, and those who came to help from all around the Wizarding World, were able to dedicate their time to repairing the cherished school.

It had been two days, and Hermione still hadn’t fully accepted that so many of her loved ones had perished.

Walking the halls after the battle had seemed incredibly surreal. Despite all of the new faces, and all of the familiar ones that had returned to help, it was still hard to process. Most days, her eyes possessed a kind of blur, blocking her from seeing anything other than what was needed to get her through her day.

She was ignored, as she preferred it. She tended to ignore a lot of people too these days.

She ignored the pain she felt, having survived the War.

She ignored the pain which she felt, living with permanent scarring over her body.

She ignored the pain of the recovery from starvation which she faced during her time hunting Horcruxes.

She forced herself to feel nothing, until she simply...couldn’t.

That was how, two mornings following the Battle, while Harry and Ron were basking in a bottle of Fire Whiskey in Gryffindor Tower with a few of the other fighters and everyone else was still outside removing the deceased, Hermione found herself alone in the Great Hall. They were always drinking these days. It wasn’t hard to find a moment or two alone, be it something you truly wanted, or was forced upon you.

Silence surrounded her. 

xxx

  
May 4, 1998

Leaning her head against the stone walls that lined the Great Hall, Hermione finally allowed herself to breathe. She could feel the breaths leaving her body. She could feel the stone pebbles underneath her fingertips, left on the floor from any number of walls which had been demolished. She could taste the smell of death and pain in the air, despite their efforts to remove any physical evidence of such from the grounds. She could feel the War around her, even if it was long over.

Choosing to focus on the sensation of her breaths, Hermione failed to notice that she had begun crying, nor when she curled her thin arms around her legs. Eventually she stopped focusing on her breathing, and simply allowed herself to cry. Curling in further, she became completely unaware of the world around herself.

_How long had it been since she’d simply...cried? Since she allowed herself to even feel?_

An ache in her arm reminded her of the ever-present scar that graced her skin. No scar-remover she’d been given by the Hogwarts matron has worked to remove it. Her blessedly horrible “Mudblood” would remain forever more.

“Granger,” a low, deep voice called from the entrance way, snapping Hermione from her deep thoughts.

“Shove it, I’m coping over here.” She whimpered. Angrily wiping her wrist over her eyes, she chose to ignore the sass which had escaped from her mouth. In recent months, a new degree of attitude which she didn’t know herself to previously possess, had become evident in her daily decorum.

Hearing a dramatic sigh, her eyes widened at the sight before her.

With a “plop”, a large form placed himself at her left hip. Giving Hermione no time to process what was happening, her visitor of sorts lifted an arm, immediately surrounding her in the other person’s body heat. Gazing up, piercing violet eyes stared back at her. In Hermione’s shock, her body shakes become almost manageable and coherency begun returning to her.

“Wha-what are you doing?”

“Being comforting. I thought that much was obvious.”

With confused eyes, she shook her head. When she mentioned that she just wanted to be left alone, he shook his head in the negative.

“No can do, Granger..”

“Oh, and why is that, Zabini? Shouldn’t I be allowed to wallow and scream and cry in peace? I’m pretty sure it’s one of the perks of surviving the atrocities that I just did.”

“You can,” he said after a moment. “And if you truly want me to leave, then I will. But I also know, from coping with my own grief over the last year, and from being alone for part of it...it doesn’t always lead to healing. Sometimes you simply need someone to scream at.”

She was silent a moment, allowing the warm arm around her body to settle her down. She truly contemplated shaking off the aforementioned appendage, but at the same time, the weight of his arm was doing wonders to soothe her soul. He was so wam, and a large part of herself had been frozen since the night of the Final Battle.

“You can stay,” she whispered finally. “But please, don’t tell anyone I was crying.”

Feeling his arm tighten around her, she felt her head being brought to lay against his shoulder. “I know that you hate me Granger, and that the only reason I haven’t been hexed yet is because you are in shock at me touching you.” Silence followed a minute before he continued. “You can trust me though, Granger. I promise.”

Curling her body against his torso, she felt her tears begin to fall more rapidly again.

“Why are you helping me.”

Gazing up at him through glazed eyes, she saw him staring at the opposing wall. He was silent a long moment afterwards.

“We’re all a little broken right now, in a way. Though truthfully, I’m here because I heard you crying, and I couldn’t bear the thought of a girl as pure-souled as yourself suffering any longer. We’ve all been through so much. Coming across you the way I did, kind of just broke what was left of my own soul.”

She raised a hand, grasping at his shirt yet never stopping her gaze from leaving his face, “You hate me though. You despi-despise my blood.”

She felt him shake his head against her own, “For one so bright, you are equally as stupid.”

“Hey!” She exclaimed, a bright red tinge finding her cheeks, lowering her eyes to glance at the floor..

“I don’t mean it in insult, Granger.” Blaise said softly. “I mean it as to say, that I’m surprised you haven’t noticed through all your spying, what we have had to do to survive in Slytherin.”

Grasping tighter, Hermione spoke quietly, “Wha-what do you mean?”

“We had to hate you.” He said slowly, a dead tone in his voice. “Growing up, the upperclassmen have always forced us too. It’s gone down the lines, so to speak, ever since Voldemort was a student here. Bad repercussions were directed at us if we didn’t listen. In recent years, as Voldemort was regaining his power, it became worse of course but we’ve always been taught to hate you-you and others from the muggle world.” He glanced down at her, a sad look on his face, “We would be tortured-hexed mostly, if we failed to comply. It became an unfortunate and deadly way of life for all of us in the dungeons.”

“What about in the Room of Requirement?” Hermione questioned, fear rising in her voice. Fear, for the truths she was hearing, and the fact that a part of her, was believing them.

Blaise’s hand tightened on her bicep, bringing her closer to him. “What about it,” he whispered.

“I was there, if you wouldn’t forget. I saw you cast Fiendfyre. We had to rescue you and Malfoy from nearly falling into it. ”

Blaise lowered his head, wincing. “I’m by no means a fighter. But by being a Pure-Blood, I’ve been taught to fight from a young age. Draco has had the same tutelage of course. We know how to fake a fight, Granger. It’s something else you learn as a young child. The two of us though, always knew that you and your friends would succeed in your mission. Even Draco’s failed Killing Curse was never meant to hit anyone-just give the appearance of so. We had to make it look real, in fear of severe repercussions from any potential witnesses. It just escalated too quickly-I lost control of the Fiendfyre that I cast-arrogantly so. Draco spent hours lecturing me on my stupidity afterwards. I hadn’t meant to injure, let alone kill any of you.”

Hermione abruptly sat up, “Are you trying to tell me that Malfoy is actually on our side? That-that all those things he has ever spat at me…none of it has been true? How is a person supposed to believe that? I maybe could believe what you told me initially, but Draco Malfoy has actively hated me since I was eleven years old.”

“That is what I’m saying, but I know you won’t believe me…not yet at least.” Looking down, he removed his arm, and placed both of his hands on Hermione’s face. Using his thumbs, he began to slowly wipe away the tears that were falling. “You’re in too much pain right now to accept such news-I understand that. I’m not in much of a better place myself, honestly. Having the support this past year...it’s gotten me this far.” A small smirk fell upon his face, “Though, I am extremely appreciative that you haven’t hexed me yet-thank you, by the way. For now, let out your emotions, and I will sit here and be non-judgemental. You’re safe with me, Hermione. I just hope that you will give me the chance to prove it.”

Hermione was silent again, gazing down at the ground. She was aware of the deep gaze that the dark-skinned man was directing towards her. It was soul-searching, and it was, for some reason, by no means intimidating. 

She was very unstable-especially as she came to accept the abuse that she had endured during the war. If this boy-no, this man, had also experienced his own abuse, and was not afraid of her emotions, then who was she to cast judgement on him at that moment. They’d all done and suffered through horrible things in their tenure at Hogwarts. Sure, amazing experiences had occurred, but it wasn’t without its own atrocities. Could that be enough though, to allow this seemingly well-meaning man into her life to give the support apparently she was very much in need of?

Rational thought could be had later.

For now, his warm embrace was entirely too tempting.

“Just hug me,” she whispered, leaning herself into him again. Soon, the ever-present ears began to fall from her eyes again, and deep sobs escaped her throat. Throughout it, Blaise simply held her, focusing on the sound of her breathing.

“The three of you gave us in Slytherin the greatest gift of all, you know?” Blaise whispered quietly to her. When no response was given but he felt her stiffen, Blaise continued speaking. “By beating that megalomaniac, you’ve allowed those of us who chose to see the light...to be free.”

xxx

Harry and Ron were coping in ways much different than her own: They were resorting to the bottle of ever-present amber liquid that never seemed to leave their hands, and to flaunting their statuses as “heroes”. Hermione loved them, and she had countlessly proven that she would give up her life for them, but she couldn’t always understand them.

In her limited understanding of psychology, Hermione truly wondered if any of them walked away with mental trauma. Ron and Harry were resorting to drunkenness every night following the war, and she spent her days wallowing and confused. Though, was anyone in a better position? Most of her friends and allies had lost someone either in the first Wizarding War, or over the course of the last few years. Many walked away with physical injuries as well.

For Harry and Ron presently, she found herself countlessly levitating both of them to their beds after finding them passed out in the morning in some varying positions on the floor. Once or twice, Ron had blown up at her, only to apologize deeply later, with Harry seemingly in deep pain over his confusion in regards to what was occurring.

It would take a long time for “normal” to be a part of their lives again, if that ever were to happen.

By the two of them downing their liquid glory, she had rarely seen them since Voldemort was vanquished. Ginny had tried to comfort her, as had the rest of the Weasley family-all of whom were taking up semi-permanent residence at the school until it was repaired. With one of their own having passed away in the chaos that was war, Hermione had kindly told them that she was okay. She wouldn’t add her own troubles onto theirs. In doing so though, Hermione had barely spoken to any of her red-headed comrades.

That very morning, Harry and Ron had been called to the Headmistresses office immediately before breakfast. In their hungover states, Hermione hadn’t been told a very good story about what transpired. But, what she had gathered, was that Harry and Ron were given their honorary diplomas early by the Hogwarts Governors. This was done, as both were offered immediate places in Auror training that was due to commence at the soonest convenience. In their excitement and haste, brief goodbyes had been given to Hermione and the Weasley family, before they’d simply...left. Hermione noted that such an offer wasn’t given to herself, but she knew it was because the Headmistress understood it wasn’t what she wanted, nor needed.

As she had lost her two main pillars of support, and was not able to return to the non-Magical world as her parents were permanently displaced in Australia, she found herself at a loss at who to turn to. _What was a person to do, when your closest friends were dealing with their own shit, and the only family you had left literally lost one of their children?_

Since the final battle, her days consisted of this routine: Wandering the school grounds, wallowing in her grief, while occasionally helping restore some balance to the place she’d called home for so many years. It wasn’t healthy by any means, but it “worked”. She tried the distraction of helping with repairs, but glancing at blood splattered brick, and removing charred limbs from tree branches, had only raised her anxiety levels. It took a lot to remind herself to eat, and to sleep. When she did manage to sleep, it was riddled in nightmares. Thankfully, she was the only one residing in the 7th year Gryffindor Girls Dorm Room, which was incredibly ironic...as she’d never had a proper school year. When she did remember to eat, it was usually cut short by someone trying to reminisce with her. Meaning, it had been a while since a proper meal was had.

On the seventh day of this routine, meaning the fifth day since Harry and Ron had left, Hermione found at least a temporary answer to her problems.

Grabbing onto a strong arm as the man she was looking for walked by her near the greenhouses, Hermione gave a gentle tug. With his confused eyes glancing into her own pain-filled ones, it didn’t take long for him to give in and drag her in the opposite direction that she had originally been coming from.

“I know somewhere we can sit and talk.”

xxx

May 9, 1998

Sitting on the edge of the grounds property, Hermione simply stared out at the setting sun before her. A gentle breeze was blowing in the wind, causing the hair caught in her sweater to fly freely. 

This action caught Blaise’s attention, leaving him with a small smile. “All of us were truly quite captivated with your hair you know?”

“What do you mean?”

He cocked his head a bit, deep in thought, “Well, it kind of represents the opposite of you, doesn’t it? Completely unstructured, and wild to the core?” Giving a small chuckle, Blaise reached into his own sweater pockets and pulled out two apples. “Here, I was saving these for later, but I’m quite famished now. Would you like one?”

A small rumble went through Hermione’s stomach, causing her to blush. “Yes please, can I have the red one?”

Nodding Blaise passed his companion the selected fruit, and the two stared at the setting sun, simply munching on their juicy snack.

After a moment, Blaise leaned back on his arms. “If I fall asleep, remember to wake me. I don’t want one of the creatures from the forest to come out and eat me. It would be incredibly ironic...survive a war, and pass on by nap.”

Chuckling, Hermione nodded. “Don’t worry, I got your back.”

“Muggle expression?”

“Yes, it means I’ll look out for you.”

Smiling to himself, Blaise closed his eyes and relaxed into the soft grass which they were sitting on. When he could feel Hermione’s gaze boring a hole into his forehead though, he spoke up.

“Something on your mind?”

Hugging her knees to her chest, Hermione kept her eyes on the sun. “What was it really like, here with the Slytherins this year? I don’t want to assume anything, for the only reference base I have is what Harry, Ron and I went through.”

Blaise sighed, “We lost hope at one point, around Yule. A lot of us simply thought that this would never look up. Beatings and terrors started happening more frequently. It was a rough go for sure. Us older students, we tried to keep the younger one's suffering from...losing it. We tried to show them that it would be okay. It's hard, when a small 1st Year is looking up at you to show them that the world is going to be alright, when your own world is practically falling apart at the seems.”

He felt a small hand touch his own.

“We didn’t eat, many of the nights while we were on the run,” Hermione said quietly. “Ironically, one of the few things magic cannot magically create...is food from thin air.” Sighing, she closed her eyes briefly before continuing. “Harry splinched himself, pretty badly, and I was tortured-though I’m sure you heard about that from Malfoy. Before that, around February, there were a few nights where I almost froze a night or two when I wasn’t able to establish a safe camp.”

Squeezing her own hand, Blaise let out a breath.

Xxx

May 16, 1998

  
It had been twelve days since the first day that Blaise Zabini and Hermione Granger had sat in the Great Hall together. Seven days had gone by since she had given in again, and allowed Blaise to once again comfort her. 

In that time, they had developed a sort of pattern: In the day, they would help with the repairs of the school, but in the evenings, they would seclude themselves in the Astronomy Tower, or anywhere quiet that they could find, and simply find peace with themselves. Once or twice, Hermione had tried to join in on the camp fires that still occurred every night, but the joyousness and camaraderie that was happening, struck something deep within herself, that she simply wasn’t ready to face yet.

It had been an especially hard Saturday, that day for Hermione though. This was the mark of almost two weeks since she’d last heard from Harry and Ron. Three letters had gone out to them in that time, and not a single one had been returned. Flashbacks kept forming behind her eyes, of her final moments with them.

Their last hugs at the gates to the school.

Their promises to all be careful.

Their promises, that everything would be alright.

Tracking down Blaise, the wild-haired witch broke down into tears in his arms. This was becoming strangely routine, and it hurt to witness.

After quickly checking to make sure that no one was watching, Blaise had lifted the slight-framed girl into his arms and began walking. They had found themselves in the Astronomy Tower then, and they hadn’t left since.

She sat on the edge of the tower, hugging her knees to her chest as she stared at the setting before her. From the view, Hermione could see farther than she ever truly thought possible. It was mesmerizing, but she wasn’t really paying attention. Blaise sat to her left, leaning against the wall, and seemingly staring off into the distance. They were working with the silence, but their silence only lasted so long.

After a few hours of this silent comfort, they could hear rushing footsteps coming towards them. Glancing in the direction of the entrance way, they were graced by the sight of an out-of-breath Draco Malfoy.

“Blaise, there you are! You are one hard bugger to find these days. I can’t find the Advanced Potions text that you said was on your dresser. I was hoping to-“. With eyes wide, he finally acknowledged that his friend was not alone at the top of the tower.

“My apologies,” he said, bowing his head.

Hermione turned away, hiding the flustered expression on her face. 

“It’s alright, Draco.” Blaise said. With a quick glance to the brunette, he placed his hand on the ground beside him and patted it.

Quirking his eyebrow, Draco complied with the silent request, sitting behind his childhood nemesis, and his childhood best friend.

Settling his frame against the wall and crossing his legs on the ground before him, he cast a confused glance at his friend.

Tilting his own head towards the Gryffindor before him, Blaise simply mouthed the word “ _watch_ ”.

So Draco did. He wasn’t sure why he spent so long silently watching the girl, and on her end, she wasn’t sure why she let him. All either of them knew, was that the silence was a welcome change in the turmoil of their lives.

As Blaise was sitting at the wall of the tower, directly beside the edge, Hermione developed an urge to be held again. She knew that there was a dilemma that she would need to face. She could not be held, without coming into close contact with Draco.

Of course, she could simply approach her emotions in a way that didn’t involve relying on others for comfort. She was a big girl. She didn’t need others to help her. It was a sign of weakness to only be able to sooth, when in the presence of 7th year Slytherins.

_Shut up, Hermione. Her inner voice yelled deeply at her. Just....accept the way things are for now. Don’t run away from help. You need it, and it looks like they might too._

That “help” though, would require her to move forward…and she wasn’t ready for that. But, if she moved Malfoy out of the way in order to hug Zabini, then she would have to be close to the person who saw her be tortured….be tortured without helping her.

_He didn’t tell those awful people that he recognized you, though. He kept you alive. He lied to his family for you!_

After repeating that line to herself enough, she sucked in a breath and got to her feet. Walking towards the two men before her, she gestured for Draco to move over. When he quirked one of his perfect blond eyebrows at her, she raised one of her own.

Glancing at Blaise in confusion, the Italian gentleman simply snorted and said, “I wouldn’t argue with her. Think about who we’re talking about here.”

Sighing in compliance, Draco moved his bottom about a foot to his left. When he saw Hermione settle into the place that he had previously occupied, he was momentarily surprised to see Blaise wrap an arm around her, pulling her close. He was even more surprised when he noticed her placing her head on Blaise’s shoulder, and closing her eyes.

Had he missed his best friend developing feelings for the one girl that they both had been taught to hate above all else? Had he truly been so caught up in his own internal hell, that he’d missed something as monumental as this!

Seeing the look of content that was forming on the woman beside him, he noticed that she was beginning to shiver from the lowering temperature of the evening in a Scottish countryside.. With a sigh, he shrugged off his sweater, placing it on her front.

Well, you were raised a gentleman, Malfoy. Your mother would have your hide if you didn’t do something.

Ignoring the confused looks that they both sent him, he moved his bottom a little closer to them, relishing in the warm that her body provided. 

After them all being silent a moment, Draco let out a cough followed by a whisper, “I am sorry Granger. That night…at my manor…I am truly sorry.”

With tears beginning to fall from her eyes, Draco feared that he had overstepped. Preparing to jump to his feet and run away, he was incredibly surprised to feel a small hand grasp onto his knee, squeezing tightly to it.

“Thank you,” her hiccuping voice replied.

That’s how they remained: Blaise with his arm around her, Hermione cuddled up to him, and Draco with an incredibly smooth, small hand holding onto him. It was incredibly tame, but he found it to be the most important touch that he had received in a very long time.

They ended up staying that way for another hour. Eventually, Hermione’s breathing evened out, and they saw her body go lax.

“She’s asleep,” Blaise whispered.

“No shit,” Draco drawled.

“What do we do?”

“You think I bloody well know?” Draco’s face had developed a look of minor terror. It was a weird expression on someone who normally exuded a cool demeanor. “Are we supposed to leave her?”

Blaise rapidly shook his head, “No, I don’t think that would be a good idea. Right now, she’s feeling incredibly alone-Potter and Weasley left her not too long ago. From my understanding, they have yet to speak with her. Leaving her up here, probably would lead to us getting hexed in the morning.”

Draco sighed, “You’re right. Do you happen to know the password to Gryffindor Tower? That’s where she’s living these days, isn’t it?”

Blaise nodded, “Nope.”

“Lovely.”

Blaise looked out at the sky briefly, “It is pretty late. Everyone is probably still eating in the Great Hall. We might be able to sneak her into our Common Room.” He glanced down at the face of the girl who had felt so few moments of peace in the last few days. He felt like his own troubles were nothing compared to what this young woman had gone through. “I just don’t want her to get embarrassed in case someone sees her entering with us.”

Draco looked down at her, “Is she worth us going to all this trouble Blaise?”

Blaise didn’t respond a moment. Gesturing for Draco to stand, the other Slytherin did so. Gathering Hermione into his arms, he passed her off to the blond so that he could stand up himself.

Never once in this exchange did she awaken.

She must be exhausted. 

“She helped save all of us,” Blaise said when he got to his feet. “When you were forced to leave with your parents, and I was forced to go through the tunnel, she was still here fighting, even after living through the torture of your aunt, and I’m assuming some sort of starvation if her appearance is anything to go on.”

He brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face before holding his own arms out, awaiting her weight to be passed to him. 

Draco surprised him by shaking his head, adjusting his hold on the girl so that more securely rested in his arms. “It’s okay, I got her.” Gazing at the woman he held, he truly stole a look at her. Years of prejudice had been thrust upon him, despite how hard he truly tried to fight against it. Holding the small woman now, he couldn't deny how “human” Hermione Granger truly was.

Nodding, Blaise led the way towards the staircase. “She helped save us. I don’t have to like her in a romantic way to know that I feel some form of gratitude towards what she did-and you should as well.” 

Draco looked down at the sleeping woman. From Blaise’s spot some three feet in front of him, he missed his whispered response of, “I do-I do and I’m starting to accept that.”

xxx

It took them nearly twenty minutes to reach the Slytherin Common Room. In that time, surprisingly, no one walked by them. It saved them the hassle of having to explain their current situation.

Walking up to the wall that housed the entrance, Blaise walked forward. “Password,” an aged, and water-worn portrait of an elderly witch requested.

“Survivor.”

The brick wall before them swung open, revealing the reverence of the beautiful room inside.

“There’s only a few of us,” Blaise said, “So we shouldn’t have to worry about anyone finding her. It isn’t like any of our old dorm mates stayed”

“Good point,” Draco said, quickly walking towards the staircase that led towards the male dormitories. 

Approaching their sleeping area, Draco walked towards his bed and laid her down. “Pass me that blanket you mom knitted,” Draco muttered.

Immediately, a green blanket found its way in the direction of his head.

“Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

“Think she’s going to think we did something to her?”

Blaise shook his head, “Nah, we should be okay.”

“You two can live,” they heard the muffled reply come from the blond man’s bed. Jumping slightly, both teenagers angled themselves so that they could see one bleary brown eye staring at them.

“Can you two come back here though, I’m really cold.” She whispered. Blushing. “These dungeons are freezing.”

“Well damn, Granger,” Draco said, kicking off his shoes. “Way to be a flirt.” He moved to the side of the bed, directly beside the wall. Placing a pile of pillow’s behind his head, he sat up beside her laid-down form. A boney elbow to his abdomen was his response.

“Oi!”

“Oh, relax Draco,” Blaise said with a smirk, moving his body to the other side of Hermione. Positioning some pillows in the same method as Draco, he allowed Hermione to curl into his side again.

“Thank you…both of you.” She said softly, her eyes still heavy with sleep. “I take it I fell asleep in the tower?’

“Yeah, we didn’t want to leave you up there by yourself.”

Hermione smiled at Blaise in thanks. “I know that this goes against most books on psychology…and that I should probably be seasoned to hate you beyond contempt…but I just don’t have any hate left in me anymore. After everything, I just can’t hate the people who are offering me peace. You two, are currently offering me peace, and I am very thankful.”

“Well, the way I see it Granger,” Blaise said softly. “Is that we have known each other for seven years. While we may have been wrongly hating each other throughout that time, it’s also allowed for us to get to know each other-at least in a simple way.”

She nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” Draco replied. “Blaise never would harm a soul-at least not truly.”

“And Draco was just a sodding idiot through puberty.”

“Hey!”

“It’s mildly accurate.” Hermione stated, smiling softly.

He poked her in the ribs, causing another smile to form on her face, this one laced more deeply with sleep. “Get some rest Granger, we can see if this camaraderie survives until morning.”

“Goodnight, Blaise.” She said softly. “Goodnight, Draco.”

With shocked eyes, they watched her fall asleep.

Staring at his friend, Blaise cocked his head. _Are we just replacing Potter and Weasley?_ He mouthed to the blond.

Draco shrugged. _It’s possible_. 

Gently removing themselves from the bed, Blaise lifted pillows off of the spare beds in the dorm room, positioning them beside Hermione’s body. Removing a blanket from the bed beside his own, he used it to cover Hermione’s small frame as well.

“There,” he stated, brushing imaginary dust from his hands. “Let’s see what happens in the morning. Two sickles say we’re in for an interesting adventure.”

Draco nodded, glancing at the witch currently residing on his bed, “You’re on.”

It was two hours until screams woke both young men from their own slumbers.

Xxx

Years ago, I tried releasing this story. I loved what I wrote, but I wasn’t at a point where I was able to do it justice. Now, a mature woman who’s written many unpublished stories over the years-I feel like it’s time to share this beauty with you all again.

Coping With Silence is the beginning of what I plan to be a three part trilogy (If the plot bunnies continue the way I wish). 

Being off work right now due to Covid, has allowed me to dedicate more of my time to this story. 

So, with all that said...leave me a message down below with what you think. If by some small miracle, you remember when I posted this story in 2017, let me know! It would be funny to reminisce with you.

Until next time everyone,  
Tegan


	2. Chapter 2

Coping With Silence

Chapter 2

As wishes may inspire dreams, so dreams may inspire wishes  
-Anonymous

Xxx

Screams echoed against the four walls which made up the 7th year male dormitory.

Deep, harrowing sounds which caused both Blaise and Draco’s eyes to fly open the moment the sounds reached their ears. Blaise threw the blanket off of his body, jumping from his bed and grabbing his wand from his bedside table. Draco, who had fallen asleep in Theodore Nott’s old bed, copied his best friend's actions silently. 

Standing in the room in only sweatpants and tshirts, both teens wiped sleep from their eyes as they tried to pinpoint where the screaming was coming from. Eyes wide and post-War reflexes still natural, both Blaise and Draco knew the proper procedure when one was woken from slumber by screams. 

_Take in your surroundings._

_Keep a level head._

_Don’t be rash._

A hand went to Blaise’s shoulder, causing the Italian wizard to glance to his left. “Look,” Draco said softly, lowering his wand. Following his friend’s gaze, Blaise too was soon lowering his weapon. Walking towards where he typically slept, Blaise fell to his knees at the side of his proper bed; hands reaching for the figure residing in it.

“Oh, Mia,” he said softly, shortening the witch’s name for no other reason other than he was overcome with thoughts.

On his bed, Hermione Granger was writhing in what appeared to be agony. If they hadn’t known her to be free of cruciatus casting, they’d worry she was being tortured again. Tears streamed down her face, and her body had fully tensed, despite being fully asleep. Agony, fear, and true pain were emotions evident on the poor woman’s face.

“What should we do?” Draco questioned, concern and awkwardness forming on his face. “Are you supposed to wake someone who’s having a nightmare?”

“When it’s this bad, it would be more cruel to let them continue,” Blaise replied. Raising his hands to Hermione’s shoulders, he shook her gently, “Hermione...Hermione, you need to wake up. Hermione...Hermione, you’re safe.”

The screaming continued, eating into the very depths of both their souls. Draco, moved out of Blaise’s line of sight a moment, before returning quickly holding a small, porcelain item in his hands. Twisting a small dial at the side, a soft melody began to play.

“My mother gave me this music box to fight homesickness my first year here. I’ve played it every night that I’ve sought comfort.” Placing the music box beside Hermione’s bedside, Draco took a deep breath before climbing into Hermione’s bed once again. Pulling her blanket back, he pulled the pained woman into his side.”You’re safe,” he whispered. Raising a hand, Blaise brushed her wild hair away, having gotten sodden with her tears. “We promise, Mia...you’re safe.”

It took two more minutes of being held, accompanied with Draco’s music box and Blaise’s careful caresses, but Hermione’s eyes soon opened. Shuddering, her head flailed slightly in confusion. Taking a deep breath, deep brown eyes adjusted to the light in the room and something seemingly “clicked” inside of her, reminding Hermione where she was.

Glancing up, brilliant grey eyes stared back at her.

“Hey there,” Draco said softly.

“You okay?” Blaise questioned, drawing Hermione’s attention to him as well. Shuddering once more, Hermione slowly rose herself from Draco’s embrace. Ignoring the awkwardness of falling asleep in jeans, she rubbed her sore, dry eyes. 

“I remember bits and pieces,” glancing at the hands she was balling in her lap, Hermione dug her fingernails into her palm. “Harry told me that I had nightmares regularly since I was injured in the Department of Mysteries. It got a lot worse though, when we managed to leave your...home,” she finished, refusing to look Draco in the eyes.

“I tried my hardest to keep you from harm. I truly did. When she carved that into your skin, and realizing I’d been calling you the same thing for almost a decade...it broke me inside.” Draco reached forward and held onto her tightening fists, “We get nightmares too,” he stated, gesturing at Blaise. “Ours though, aren’t nearly on a degree similar to what you just went through.”

“Harry laid with me at night, more often than not when we were on the run. It helped to keep the nightmares at bay. Sometimes Ron would, but he started getting too possessive. I think it, well, was leading him to grow theories of us forming a relationship.”

“Did it help? When Harry or Ron would lay with you? Did it make your nightmares stop?”

Giving a considering look to the darker skinned teen, Hermione nodded, “Being alone makes them worse, certainly. Having someone there-someone who can help me feel, well, safe...it makes the nightmares a lot easier.”

Seeing her face begin to contort in pain, Blaise’s heart truly broke for the woman in his bed. His own nightmares stemmed from the beatings he had to suffer at the hands of the upperclassmen and the Carrow’s; from the Death Eater’s threatening his mother; from watching Draco walk into potential death. He hadn’t actually stood at Death’s door like Hermione had, and faced off on the other side as Voldemort. Glancing at Draco, he knew the other teen felt similar. Having to kill in order to save his mother, and keep his father alive in the process, Draco had aged considerably. When the War ended, Blaise had worried that Draco had seen and done too much to be able to show this level of compassion to a woman such as Hermione. _Yet...here they were._

“Would you like another hug? Or do you want space?” Draco questioned her, beginning to move his body away. A whispered, “Hug please,” had him wrapping his arms around her torso from behind and pulling her closer to his chest. 

“It isn't fair, is it?” She questioned quietly, words slightly muffled by the mouth she was burying into Draco’s shoulder. “That while we survived, we still have to live through the aftermath of all of this...shit.” Taking a breath, Hermione continued, “I naively thought that when we won-because winning was the only outcome I chose to consider-that we would all go back to normal.”

“None of it’s fair,” the teen holding her agreed. “Not a single part. We all were stolen of our childhoods, in many different ways. But, you also just said it yourself-we survived. That has to count for something.” 

Hermione nodded, “You’re right, you know. It has to.” Pushing her body back further against Draco, she raised a question, “Why is it guys are always so warm?”

Blaise laughed a bit from the side of the bed, before standing up and moving to sit at Draco’s side. “It’s one of our saving grace’s, the fact that we can provide body heat. Though, every so often it’s a woman who is the one to provide the body heat, not the man.”

Nodding slowly, Hermione relaxed a little, tears stopping and face relaxing. When Blaise passed her a handkerchief, she used it to wipe away the final paths of wetness on her face. “You called me Mia earlier.”

“You called us by our first names last night.”

Eyes widening, Hermione redirected the subject slightly, “Be that as it may, why ‘Mia’?”

Blaise pat her on the forehead, “I think it’s suiting is all. Now,” he glanced at the timepiece which he kept on his side table. “It’s two in the morning, I don’t know about you all, but after this excitement, I’m ready to fall asleep again.”

Almost as if his words prompted her, a yawn escaped her own mouth, quickly followed by one from Hermione’s blond companion. “Hermione?” The person holding her questioned, using her first name again. Wide-eyed, she nodded and waited for Draco to continue. You said that Pott-Harry and Ron would sleep beside you, to keep your nightmares at bay. Personally, I don’t think my heart and soul could handle seeing you like that again.”

Blaise nodded, “It’s true. Would you allow us to take those two neanderthal’s place?”

A truly thoughtful look formed on Hermione’s face, “You actually want to help me?”

Flabbergasted, Draco gave the shoulder of hers which he was closest to a nudge, “Woman, we just went through that entire experience with you. Surely, you realize that our hearts aren’t entirely made of stone.”

Smiling, Hermione had to nod, “I’m beginning to see a lot of things that I once never believed possible. I’ll gladly accept your help-I don’t know how much longer I can handle going through those nightmares on my own.”

“I can’t believe those two friends of yours simply left, without helping you find an alternative solution to their comforting you?”

Shrugging her shoulders, Hermione replied to Blaise, “They were preoccupied with starting their new lives, I guess.” Turning slightly and changing the subject, Hermione pushed gently on Draco’s chest, causing the tall wizard to fall against the mattress. “Get comfy,” she instructed. Quirking an eyebrow, the blond said nothing. Moving more-so into the middle of the bed, Hermione gave Blaise a small smile, “Will you both lay here? Or how will it work?”

“Do you want the sassy, teenage boy response, or the polite, we’re here to help response?”

“What do you think?”

“I’m okay to stay on the left side here, if Draco stays on the right.” Blaise replied, “Are you okay with being in the middle? Or, is it too much...us all here?”

Shaking her head, Hermione tugged on Blaise’s t-shirt, causing the Italian to fall dramatically onto his side. “Get comfy.”

xxx

The following afternoon, Hermione plopped down on the ground beside Blaise, brushing off sweat from her brow. Despite it still being May, abnormally warm weather had fallen upon Hogwarts. He supposed though, that with how hard everyone was working at finishing the immediate spell-damage around the school, and at removing the dead bodies that still somehow managed to be found daily, that a sweaty appearance could be accepted.

With a sigh, her head found its way to his shoulder-her favourite spot, if the time spent together since they had met, had become any indicator. 

“Will things here ever go back to normal?” She questioned. 

“What do you define as, “normal’?”

“Well,” she said, turning her face so that she could gaze up at him. “Preferably not where I go down to greet the giant squid, and I end up pulling the body of a poor fourth year Ravenclaw out of the water. Said body, which shouldn’t have even been fighting in the first place. Gave me quite the fright, finding her.” She turned her head again, glancing at the ground, “None of us should have had to fight-we were too young. The War, it never should have gotten to the point that it did.”

He nodded, bringing a hand up to rest against the top of her crown. 

“I know what you’re saying. I'm sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. You didn’t escape without your own scars.”

Hermione was almost emotionless at times these days, and it brought up something deep inside him. Something that he refused to believe was worry. He was a Slytherin! Sure, he could be kind, but was it truly possible for a snake to worry about a lion in the capacity that he was contemplating?

“How's the common room?” She questioned after a moment.

He knew what she was referring to. After the battle ended, those in Slytherin had been brought back through the tunnel. They had been offered the chance to stay and help restore order to the grounds, but many had been forced to go home by their families.

Other than Draco and himself, only two other Slytherins had remained. He often wondered if Draco had only stayed due to his parents immediate imprisonment following the War. Draco had been spared, by the skin of his teeth. Returning home to the manor that had housed that unholy monster...he personally wouldn't want to set foot inside of it. Draco had apparently expressed the same thoughts.

“It's good,” he finally replied, realizing that he got lost in his thoughts. “Very quiet. Draco and I have been spending most of our time preparing for the placement exams. We know that they aren't until November, but still...it keeps us from overthinking things.”

“I don't blame you,” Hermione whispered. She was slightly jealous that the two students had still been able to learn-anything-in the past year, even if the curriculum taught had been cringe-worthy and revolting

“So,” he questioned, pulling her closer to his side. “What's new in the life of Hermione Granger?”

“I haven’t heard from Harry or Ron yet,” she replied. Wiping a tear from her eye, she looked towards Blaise’s expressive brown eyes. “Do you think I did something? I mean, I’ve never gone a week without hearing from one of them. I know that I’m a big girl, but after all we went through...”. Glancing at the ground again, Hermione continued her thought, “I would have thought that they would be writing to me daily, just as much as I want to write them.”

“Hey now,” Blaise replied. Taking her by surprise, he pulled her onto his lap. 

“Wha-?”

“Hush, silly woman. I’m trying to comfort you here.” He gave her a “bop” on the head for good measure.

She snorted, but a laugh escaped her lips. “Carry on then.”

“I’m sure they miss you,” he stated, pulling her in, to lean against his chest. She couldn’t help herself from noting how toned and well-muscled his chest felt beneath the cotton shirt that he was wearing. 

“And excuse me if I’m overstepping at all, but have you been tested for any post-traumatic stress thingies?”

She gave him an odd look, “Did you just say, “thingies’?”

“Yes, yes I did.”

She rolled out of his grasp, standing up. Leaning against the aged brick wall that they had been sitting against, she pressed all of her weight against it. “I’ve contemplated it,” she whispered. “But I honestly just think that I’m feeling copious amounts of stress...maybe some guilt and exhaustion as well.”

“What on earth could you have to feel guilty about?” Blaise questioned, getting to his feet. Moving so that he was standing directly in front of her, he cupped her face in his hands. Seeing her sigh into his grasp, she closed her eyes.

“I erased my parent’s memories right before Harry, Ron and I went into hiding.”

“Oh, Hermione.”

Tears started to well into her eyes. Feeling Blaise wipe them away with his thumbs, she continued talking. “I knew, as Harry’s best friend, that my family would be targets-it really only was a matter of time. So many other families had already been attacked, I just didn’t want the same to happen to my own.”

“Where are they?” He wondered aloud.

“Somewhere in Australia. Maybe Brisbane. I sent them there because of Voldemort’s lack of influence on that side of the World. I just wanted them safe…”

“Is there anyway that you would be able to reverse it?” He realized that he asked the wrong question. At her sides, her small hands were tightening into fists. 

“It was the first time that I had ever erased a memory. I tried to do it properly. But I knew, as soon as it was done, that it would never be able to be reversed. I put too much power into it.”

Letting go of her face, he wrapped his arms around her, effectively pulling her against his body. Once he felt her wrap her own arms around his torso, he began to speak again.

“You really are short-you know that, right?”

Feeling a small hand hit him on the shoulder, he continued. “Seriously though, you barely reach my shoulder. You’re a tiny little thing.”

“A tiny little thing that could kick your arse.”

He snorted into her hair, “Yes, that’s probably true.”

Seeing that she wasn’t looking to let go of his torso any time soon, Blaise continued speaking. “You know Granger-or should I say, Hermione? I never really know around you. I feel though, that we have been on cordial terms long enough to strictly first names, don’t you?”

She smiled against his chest, “Yeah, I’d like that...Blaise.”

A wicked grin formed on his face, “Well Hermione, I must say, you bring out a certain something in me...something that I hadn’t even known myself capable of.”

She looked up at him, a questioning look upon her face, “Oh?”

He nodded, “Yeah-”

“Hey, Blaise!”

He closed his eyes, resting against her head. If she listened closely, she could have sworn that she heard him growl against her hair.

“Yes, Draco.”

“Hey Blaise,” he said, nodding to his best friend. “Hermione”

“Draco,” she nodded in return to him. Laying next to someone, quickly can bring you onto first name terms with them.

“Was I interrupting something?” He asked, a perfect blond eyebrow lifted in the air.

Glancing down at the small girl in his arms, Blaise sighed, before letting go. Keeping an arm around her shoulder, he replied to the aristocrat, “Nah, we were just having a chat. What’s up?”

“You said you’d come to the Great Hall for dinner tonight with me and the other Slytherins. Or,” he glanced at Hermione. “Have you made other plans?”

Blaise shook his head. “Nah, that’s still good. Would you like to sit with us tonight, Hermione?”

Both her eyes and Draco’s bugged out of their heads at those words, “Um...what?”

“You. Dinner. Us?”

She hit him once again, this time with more strength behind it. Seeing her action, Draco couldn’t help laughing, “Nice one, Hermione. I approve.”

She gave a small smile to the blond before turning back to the man at her side, “No need to dumb things down for me. I can eat with you. Might be able to teach you some etiquette manners while I’m at it.”

Draco turned around, laughing again as he did so, “I like her, Blaise. She should eat with us more.”

Xxx

Upon entering the Great Hall with her two escorts, Hermione was immediately assaulted with the delicious smells of freshly made, delicious food. As there were so many people to be fed, the four tables normally reserved for each house were all in use, but no one was sitting in their designated seats. Even the professors, who usually sat at the High Table, were mulling around in between students.

The War had changed certain dynamics around Hogwarts.

Seeing the well worn faces of each person sitting at the tables, Hermione was thrilled that they had broken custom, and were all sitting where they darn well pleased.

“Over here,” Blaise said, placing a hand on the small of her back and guiding her towards the farthest table from the door. It was mostly deserted, but all of the remaining Slytherin’s were congregating at one corner of it.

“Hello,” she said calmly, upon reaching the table. The two younger students briefly looked up at her. One opened their mouth, as if to say something snarky-but a look from Blaise, unbeknownst to Hermione, quickly quieted them.

“Hello,” both students mumbled, before returning to their meals.

“Well then,” Hermione said with a shrug, turning to both men. “After you?”

Both Slytherins sat down on the bench, leaving just enough room for Hermione to sit between them. With an eye roll, she situated herself in between. Trying to not focus on the feel of either man’s arm as it occasionally brushed against hers, she focused on filling her plate with the delectable food in front of her.

A cough from the front of the room brought her attention to focus.

Minerva McGonagall, exuding wisdom and grace, stood in front of the entire hall. Battle worn just like everyone else, she had not left the War scar-free. Running diagonally along her left cheek, lay a brilliantly red scar. Apparently, someone’s brazen slicing hex, hadn’t been quite bold enough.

“Good evening, everyone,” she said smoothly. “I won’t take up too much of your time tonight, but I just wanted to share some news with you all.”

Whispers immediately filled the room, only to be silenced with a raise of the witch’s hand.

“Thank you. Now, while some of you are already privy to this,” she said, eying the three of them. Hermione gave a nod of understanding, relaxing slightly against Blaise’s arm. “Others are not. We have allotted the next year, specifically, for healing. This means that no regular classes will be up and running.”

“What!”

“We’ll fall behind though!”

“My NEWT scores!”

“Everyone, please calm down. This has been allotted, by both myself, and the Board of Governors, in order to aid in the Post Traumatic Stress, the grief, the loss, and simply the fact that yes, a battle occurred on these grounds. While repairs are coming along brilliantly, we can’t very well guarantee that everything will be in place for September. We also have to implement new security measures, and start a new hiring process.”

Mumbling once again overtook the room, but Professor McGonagall chose to simply speak over it, “We did not have the capability of completing exams this year. It just wasn’t feasible. Because of this fact, we are allowing a week of testing to commence in November of this coming year. Students who pass these exams will automatically move up towards the next year level-which will commence the following September. For those students who were meant to graduate next month, if you pass these exams then you will receive your graduation diploma. Alternatively, 7th year students also have the option to return the following September and complete a proper, school year.”

With a nod of her head, she swept down from the front of the room, and hurriedly left to find a seat beside Madame Hooch..

Must not want any questions right now, Hermione thought. She couldn’t blame her, not really. When she had been brought to the Headmistress’s office, along with Blaise, Draco, and a few more of the more gifted seventh year students, they had all been surprised by the news. While the concept of being potentially behind in one’s studies were daunting, she appreciated the work that was going into making everyone-their mental health included-have time to recuperate.

Draco elbowed her in her side, “Hey, Granger.”

“Yes?”

“You’re going to do the testing in November, aren’t you? I mean, it seems like a very un-Granger-like thing for you to say no to.”

She gave him a small glare before taking a bite of the potato on her plate. Swallowing, she replied, “Of course, I would have much preferred testing next month, but I believe Professor McGonagall is right...I for one, am certainly not ready.”

Both Slytherin’s knocked their shoulders against her own, “You’ll do fine, Granger,” Draco said. “How often have I insulted you for how smart you were?”

“What Draco means is,” Blaise said, interrupting the budding argument. “Is that you have always been called the brightest witch of your age...or something like that? I’m not entirely sure. Give it a few weeks of studying, and you’ll manage just fine!”

She giggled slightly into her hand.

“I think she’s lost it, Draco.”

“Yeah, I’m seeing that too.”

Tossing a bread roll at each of them, she crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. “Tossers, the both of you. I’m just laughing because, well, if this little friendship, or whatever you want to call it continues, then you’ll get to see how amazingly stressed that I get during exams.”

Draco smacked himself on the forehead, “Life was much less stressful when you refused to talk to us, Granger.”

She cast a small smile at Blaise, “Well, you can thank Blaise for that one.”

Xxx

Leaving the Great Hall after dinner had been interesting. Many curious onlookers had been gawking at the sight of Hermione Granger walking with Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy.

“Think she’s been jinxed?” One person had asked.

“Nah, she’s just looking for a quick lay,” another had snided. Said person had had the joy of being whapped upside the head by a furious Molly Weasley. She was sure the woman was going to speak to her at some point about her choice in male company.

Upon exiting the building, the three teenagers ventured to what had become Hermione and Blaise’s “spot”. With Draco accompanying them now, it seemed that room for a third was needed.

Settling herself against the brick wall behind her, Hermione smiled slightly when she felt both men follow suit on either side of her.

“Hermione,” Blaise whispered.

She cocked her head, concern evident in her eyes, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“If being seen with a few Slytherins is going to make your life difficult, then I don’t want to force you to spend time with us.”

She furrowed her brows, “What do you mean? The War is over! Who cares who I choose to spend my time with. I’m an adult, I can make my own decisions.”

“But, what was being said inside-”

“Screw them,” she said angrily, throwing her arms in the air. “I chose who I see in my free time. No one has forced me. No one is allowed to force me to do anything anymore.” Angrily, her hands were fisting so tightly at her sides, Draco was concerned that she would draw blood with her nails.

“I just thought-”

“No,” she exclaimed, her finger pointing sharply in his chest. “You can leave if you would like, both of you,” she turned her head, facing Draco as well. “But that will be your choice in leaving, not mine. You can leave just like everyone else does.”

“Oh Hermione,” Blaise said tiredly. “Haven’t you caught on that I’m rather fond of you and your know-it-all ways?”

“Wha-?”

“Just come here and give me a hug.” Bringing her into his arms, he turned himself so that he was facing Draco. Feeling Hermione’s warm embrace, and seeing the genuine happiness that Draco was showing in his eyes for his friend, made him feel a joy that he hadn’t felt in a long while.

“Bring it in, Draco. Group hug.”

“No-no. I’m good, thank you.”

“Move your arse, Mal-Draco.” Hermione said softly, holding out an arm for Draco to join them.

Sighing dramatically, Draco walked forward, wrapping his taller, muscular from around both students. 

“Why must you both be so tall,” they heard her mutter against their chests.

“Well,” Draco replied. “It works rather well that you’re short. Trust us.”

“If I must.”

“Look Draco, she’s being dramatic.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, boys.”

Xxx

From the view of her office, Minerva could see a great many things. One thing that could interest though, were the small forms of three students directly underneath her window. If one squinted just enough, they could make out the heads of one Gryffindor, two Slytherins, and countless hundred years of wishful thinking.

She never had thought that she would see the day-two such houses, forming a comradery as such. What amazed her even more, was the fact that the three seemed to be hugging!

Moving away from the window, she allowed the students some privacy. Taking a seat at her desk, she pulled a bottle from one of its drawers, and emptied its contents into a tumbler. Leaning back, she allowed herself to taste the whiskey that resided inside.

Hermione Granger could get away with murder as far as she was concerned. Not only had she endured torture, under Bellatrix Lestrange’s hand no less, but she had countlessly risked her life, all to make sure that Harry Potter would succeed in his mission.

 _A mission that never should have been his in the first place, Albus_. Shaking her head, she took another sip. Seeing Hermione bond with one of the people who had been there the day of her torture, and throughout her merciless bullying while at Hogwarts, was bittersweet. It was incredibly encouraging that after everything the girl had gone through, she allowed herself to forgive. It was morose though, in that she had never gotten to know the good side of the boy...not until now apparently.

She would keep an eye on her students-make sure that if anything grew from their friendship, that her guidance would be there, but only if needed. She would not make the same mistakes that her predecessor did.

With sad eyes, she turned away from the smiling portrait of Albus Dumbledore. Finishing her tumbler, she stood up. _There’s still work to be done._

Xxx

Annnnnnd Chapter 2 is up and posted everyone. I’m quite thrilled by how this story is coming along. The feedback I’ve gotten so far has been lovely-thank you so much to my first reviewers! It’s caused my heart to literally glow with happiness, to see that you are enjoying this story.

If easier, Coping with Silence is also posted on Fanfiction.net, under the same username and title. Drop by and visit there if you’d like!

Let me know what you all thought of this chapter, everyone! There is LOTS more to come.

TTFN,  
Tegan


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